money in the wind

I was sitting inside at a vast open window, looking out at people passing by while I sharpened coloured pencils. There must have been hundreds of pencils and I had to sharpen them all before I could draw. The bucket of pencil shavings was half-full and my sharpener was dull. For some reason, my wallet was sitting on the window sill and every so often money would flutter out and blow into the street - ten dollars, twenty dollars, fifty dollars. Each time, people made an effort to help catch my money and return it, but a few times the money was lost. Once, a dog snatched my money out of the air and ran away with it in his teeth.

swept away

I lived in a home with a small back deck, backing onto a river. The deck had no railing and it was perched only a few feet above the water. A friend visited us and she was wearing amazing clothing: a black and red pin-striped three-piece suit, long black high-heeled boots under her pants, and a black suede coat with an intricate cut-out pattern. For some reason, she changed her outfit and left her incredible clothes on the deck. The next day, I was on the phone with another friend, pacing about the house. As I walked past the glass doors leading to the deck, I realised that during the night the tide had risen and water had washed over the deck, sweeping away the clothing. I hung up the phone and, wearing all my clothes, dived off the back deck into the water. Under the water, I could see her pants here, a boot there, but also some eels - fat eels with pronounced eyes and each with pinkish frill along its body. At first I was afraid but soon I realised they were simply curious; they meant no harm. I even saw one swim through the glass doors into the living room and out again. I only vaguely thought about whether this meant there was water in the house. Surfacing to deposit clothing on the back deck or to breathe, I slowly retrieved all of my friend's beautiful clothing. The next day my friend returned. We walked onto the back deck and, again, no clothes. The tide had risen a second time and swept her clothes into the river. Fully clothed, I dived into the river, this time with my friend. Peering around under the water, we could see her clothing here and there; most pieces had travelled further down the river this time. I felt something bite my arm and, looking down, I saw a worm burrowing into my skin. I grabbed its tail between my fingers and pulled. Its body broke in two, but both pieces wriggled away through the water. It looked remarkably like the eel with a pink frill around its body, but with no eyes to speak of. Another worm bit then burrowed into my skin. For a moment I was horrified, but it reappeared in one piece, seemingly no harm done. Again, we retrieved my friend's clothing. I noticed the feel of the quality fabric and the cut of the garments as I fished them out of the water. Suddenly, there was no water; just a dry river bed. We walked along, away from the house, following the trail of clothing. I looked back to the house and could see a wall of water rushing toward us. 'Jump up', I called to my friend, and we jumped and found ourselves swept along by the water, but safe on its surface. Later, back on the deck, I worried about the remaining items of clothing we'd not been able to retrieve. 'Don't worry about it', said my friend. 'It's only clothes.'

a new life

I was living on Earth in 4000 AD. The planet had undergone a monumental shift - a death and rebirth - which had occurred sometime in the 21st Century, not too far in the future. I was the same age I am now. Earth seemed, somehow, smaller and more industrial, even fabricated, in part. An apocalypse had occurred. I heard stories of how, slowly, survivors found one another, crawled out from where they had been near-buried, and started again, doing their best to reestablish humanity's earlier learnings. They tried to remember the truths, the lessons, but it seemed everything was slightly askew. Their ways of doing things resembled life before; but, with the same foundations, they had created new pathways, new patterns, new cultures. New ways to interact with one another. I had a friend - a woman older than me and much taller and finer, who seemed to serve as a guide. It was evident I was new here; woken, perhaps, from an imposed sleep. Had I too survived and been so severely damaged I was in an induced state of slumber until that time it was safe to be alive? I was out of place. My way of being in the world was not the new way of being. Everyone seemed to have an innate knowledge of what to do, the order of things. My friend and I were talking about family. I told her I had had a beautiful family - a mother, a father, a sister and brother, and extended family, all so dear to me. I ached with longing to see them again and regretted time spent apart. The woman asked if I had had children and if I would like to begin my family anew. I doubted, at my age, it was likely, but she assured me it was indeed probable, and encouraged me to waste no time - to fall pregnant that very day. I agreed and we went to a particular shop that sold herbs, spices and other rarities, stocked in vast jars on the shelves. Rather than talking to the shop owner directly, the woman pointed to various jars, commenting on the contents. It was a code, a message to the shopkeeper, telling her why we were there. The shop owner understood and looked at me intently, then ushered me inside and made me comfortable at the rear of the shop. She fetched tea then opened a store cupboard; an unusual man appeared and approached me. He was, perhaps, of Arabic descent - a handsome man with black hair, dark eyes and caramel skin - but the most unusual thing about him was the blue aura around him, which resembled the mist that might surround a genie. Rather than being sexual, I understood him to be a eunuch with special esoteric powers, who, somehow, was about to impregnate me. But, first, he read me - my mind, my body - he could read the person I was. I was not afraid; rather, I knew this was the way to begin again.

protected

Lying on the floor in a room where small children played happily and my dog nosed at a ball. A mammoth green and black python slid into the room. The children were unafraid and one child - sitting just next to me - reached out and patted the snake on the tip of its tail. Agitated, it lashed around and appeared to come straight at me. I closed my eyes, certain I would feel its mouth close around my hand or face. When I opened my eyes, my dog gazed down at me anxiously, lovingly, wagging her tail. The children told me she had launched at the snake and finished it before it could hurt me.

rabbit and snake

We were staying in her parents' home while they were away. Everything was tidy and the house had obviously been cleaned, but now there were droppings; little brown mounds spread across the floor and even up the walls. A plastic bag under a table moved and I picked it up, my hand firm around the opening. Inside, a small grey rabbit with a white chest and tail writhed - the culprit. I went to walk to the door to release the rabbit outside, but my friend stopped me, telling me the rabbit was a pest. I didn't want to hurt the rabbit; it was so sweet. Or was it? Suddenly, the rabbit changed. Its face distorted, its eyes bulged and its teeth became big, sharp rectangles that nipped at my hand through the bag. I dropped the bag and the rabbit disappeared.
Next, in the same room, a group of people gathered. They sat on available furniture and, where chairs, lounges or beds weren't available, they sat on the floor or on the shelves. A giant black and lemon python slithered into the room and coiled its body against a wall of the room. I went to the corner furthest from the snake and sat under a shelf on the floor. The python, seemingly serene, followed me and relocated its heavy body to the shelf above my head. No one else seemed bothered by its presence, but I felt unsafe, sitting directly under it. I slowly, and with deliberate calm, gathered my bag and went to leave. Again the python followed me. It slithered alongside me and raised its head up to sniff my bag. I could see - feel - soft hair growing out of its nose, brushing my hand. I awoke and my dog, Billie Bear, was softly sniffing my hand. Relief!

outgrown her life

A friend, who lives remotely, holidayed in the city. Upon returning home, she felt she'd outgrown her life. I knew this not by speaking with her or hearing of her predicament; rather, I saw images of her caged inside her home. I could see her looking out her window and she was far too big for the room. She had to duck her head to fit inside and her arms and legs pressed against the walls. She no longer belonged, nor could she fit back into her existence.

crash

My friend and I were riding in a helicopter, piloted by another close friend. I was impressed by her bravery as I had not known she possessed a licence to fly. She looked the part, wearing a black outfit and cap, and she was clearly confident in her ability. We flew through the city, dipping dangerously low, tracing the streets between the buildings. We were so close to the ground I could see the hair of the walkers below blowing about in the wind created by the propellors. I noticed, although the helicopter moved almost erratically, I did not experience motion sickness. Suddenly my friend and I were still flying through the air, but the helicopter had crashed behind us. We looked back to see it crumpled on the ground and in flames. People were running and screaming, but we were calm. We realised we must be dead, our physical bodies burning in the wreckage on the road. Although we looked the same to one another, we were ghosts of our Earthly selves. My friend was outraged. 'I don't have time for this,' she exclaimed. 'I've not made any plans for my death and no one will know what to do if I'm gone.'